


Honey Suckle and Blood Wine

by Nerdyesque



Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Broody Vampires, Don't Have to Know Canon, F/M, Future Fic, Mild Sexual Content, Mildly Dubious Consent, Purple Prose, Snarky vampire children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 11:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdyesque/pseuds/Nerdyesque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you looking for?"</p><p>Eric had the most inappropriate urge to say "something about your size and height," but refrained from blurting his thoughts and turned his formidable concentration to speaking clearly despite his teeth. "If I tell you what I want, will you give it to me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Immortal Kiss

He glared at the girl in question, snuggled into a large overstuffed chair in the corner of the small bookstore. His nostrils flared as he sought to draw in every molecule of her scent, a delicious blend of honeysuckle and blood-wine, intriguing enough to draw him from the rain-slicked streets into this establishment. His body hardened impossibly, the zipper biting deeply into his straining cock and he silently thanked his foresight of wearing the longer suit jacket.

Her eyes rose from the pages before her, eyebrows scrunched in thought, and wandered to his hovering presence. The impact of the studious gaze was unexpected; he wanted to bite and suck at the tender hidden flesh shielding her carotid while simultaneously smoothing the soft skin of her face. She smiled quizzically and tilted her head, no doubt wondering at his intensity. Eric fought to maintain his natural coolness, but the heat of her presence stretched between them and his body nearly wrenched free of his mind's control.

"May I help you?"

Her words were polite , but berry red lips polished each long vowel and short consonant as they dripped from her mouth until he was nearly dazzled with overwhelming lust over a few syllables. Mortals just did not have this power over his kind, much less one of his years and distinction. He would think she spelled him, luring him like the veriest of houris, but he'd never been here nor had any enemies who knew his whereabouts. This trip had been entirely spontaneous; the result of ennui settling over him at the stagnancy of his fiefdom.

"I need something new to entertain me."

She rose from her position, heavy cloth girding her body so he couldn't judge the voluptuousness of her form. The bulky sweater was a lodestone for his sight because it offended his sensibilities; it was both ugly and functional, nothing enticing or charming about it, and he loathed every strand of yarn gone into making it.

Her feet whispered gently against the plush carpeting and her perfume became sharper and tangier in the back of his throat, fangs lengthening in proportion with his desire to feed and fuck.

"What are you looking for?"

He had the most inappropriate urge to say "something about your size and height," but refrained from blurting his thoughts and turned his formidable concentration to speaking clearly despite his teeth. "If I tell you what I want, will you give it to me?"

"If it's within reason."

"What is reason but a justification holding us from our true desires?"

"I guess," she equivocated, uncertainty burning deeply in the dark eyes ensnared by his own blue gaze.

Her lustrous dark hair was haphazardly drawn back into a high ponytail, wisps drifting around her face and cowl-necked throat, innocence wreathing her like a shroud. It should refute his darker intentions, calm the ravening beast in his chest, but instead it merely incited him, encouraging him to indulge as he rarely did anymore.

"Are you a mystery fan? Or maybe action?"

"Oh I prefer action to inaction and knowledge to mystery." He grinned, careful to keep his fangs hidden behind his lips. "It's so much better when things are laid bare, don't you agree?"

"Yes." Her agreement was succinct, but her voice was thready and weak. Mortals never ceased to surprise him, as her body was fully aware of his intentions and even approved of it, if her closing the small distance between them was an indication, yet her eyes remain blissfully ignorant as the intelligent mind willfully blinded her.

Eric had no qualms about seizing his opportunities, preferring to live by the one maxim he took from his Maker, to whit: seize the day. Or in this case, the wrist of the maddening girl.

She came into his arms as easily as the sunflower lifts its head to the skies and he pressed her fully against his larger, harder body, to impress upon her both his virility and his implacability. He would never take a woman unwillingly, but he was not stupid enough to give her too much time to think. Women were a fascinating to him because they could ignore what their bodies demanded and follow the dictates of their minds or hearts; whereas men, and vampires too in a small sense, were held hostage to the raging fire below their belts.

He caught her mind as easily as he'd taken her body, the stunning clarity of her thoughts melting into a morass of unspoken desire, endless fascination, and sparking curiosity. Grasping her tightly, Eric whirled back towards the chair she'd originally occupied, away from the staring glass revealing their actions to any passerby. He had no issues with an audience, but believed she'd be more comfortable without prying eyes.

Her weight was slight against him as she tumbled into his lap with one decisive tug; he captured the quivering mouth beneath his, learning her taste and textures with a determined foray. Small hands and arms crept up his expansive chest to his neck and she shyly clung to him even as he drugged her with his kisses. Soon she shifted restlessly on his lap, small kittenish sounds tumbling in the back of her throat; he inwardly smiled with triumphant, while outwardly stripping her of the hated sweater.

He drew from her, ignoring her grasping hands, so he could look at his treasure. She did not disappoint, the shell pink camisole framing delectable skin, unmarked by man or fang. He nearly cried for mercy at the small nipples thrusting upward against the soft material; the slopes and lines of her breasts spoke to the lack of a bra and he silently blessed whatever circumstance led her to leave the house without one.

Throaty moans heralded her joy at his nips and licks and suckling through the top; he drew back once, satisfied by the wide circles impressed into the cloth, detailing his possession. Needing to feel her against his bare skin, he set her standing for a brief moment, stripping them both of their remaining barriers with a speed unmatched by anything mortal. Her gasps of surprise changed back into moans of surrender, as her hot flesh pressed against the marble coldness of his, his muscles tensed and prepared for full penetration.

Eric urged her to spread wide across his lap even as his fingers delved into the slick intimate wetness at the junction of her thighs to judge her readiness. He sank in with a lush swiftness his lower body jealously demanded, so he quickly shifted her hips slightly and drew her down upon him, seating himself fully inside the warm haven of her female flesh. He stayed completely still for one impossible eternal moment, relishing the blood-warmed reality of his lover, before withdrawing and plunging, following the dictates of his nature and hers.

The sounds and smells of their sex grew as the frenzy of lust pushed him into demanding more and more, deeper, harder, and longer; she grew acquiescent and trusting in his hands, though never giving up an ounce of delighted wonder. Eric felt the strength of the trust she placed in him when she bared her throat to him, eyes wide upon his snarling face.

Sex stripped him of his civility and brought the ravening beast to the surface, but his honeysuckle girl offered herself to him again, words unnecessary in this sacred moment. Eric bent his head and moaned as the flesh of her upper body yielded as easily as of her lower. She was an indescribable taste, flame upon his tongue, everlasting life within his veins; magic and beauty and wisdom and love barely contained in this too fragile shell.

He felt her heart beat slow even as his returned to him, the warmth of mortality flushing his skin instead of hers; Eric knew the threshold of death swiftly approached for her, but he was enthralled by his pleasure to the point of intoxication and the concern grew less and less important for him. Her limp satiety passed until he was only aware of his driving cock and the overwhelming, onrushing orgasm beginning in his fangs and ending in his toes.

He arched upward even as her body slammed down, and finally, finally, he filled her with a small portion of which he had taken. Sensing her break approaching, he quickly tore the skin of his wrist and held it to her slack blue lips. There was no response, so he stroked her delicate throat as droplets of crimson wet her mouth. Involuntarily she swallowed and he praised her, continuing to hold her until she feebly began to suckle at his torn flesh as eagerly as he had her breasts.

At last she drew back, red rimming her lips, her eyes bereft of mortal intelligence, instead gleaming with feral resolve. "Hello my love," he softly whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric acts out a pivotal scene from "Gone With the Wind."

She was unreasonably mad again, the flush of rage tinting her fair flesh until Eric felt his fangs lengthen with hunger of the carnal kind. The blood he took from his new beloved sustained him, even a week later, so he had no need to feed. Instead he watched his bonded pace, and ached as memories of the sensual way their previous fights used to end flickered like shadows on the wall; she hadn't let him touch her in nearly a year now, so he knew the memories would have to sustain him.

"What brings you to me, my love?"

Blond hair whipped behind her as she turned to him. "You...you...brought another into our nest and dare ask me why I'm pissed? How could you Eric?" He sees the tears pressing in her brown eyes, and a small part of him wishes to comfort her, but a larger part is enraged by her dog in the manager attitude.

"You ignore me. Refuse my bed and my fangs. Am I supposed to remain celibate until you've decided to forgive me for whatever transgression I am guilty of now?"

In the beginning, her impertinence and sass had intrigued him, enthralled him, but over the years her hold on him had lessened until he merely felt disgust at her reluctance to accept her place in his heart and life. He had fought countless sups for her, broke sacred rules of his kind, hell, had married her in the most eternal way, yet still, _still_ , she believed he was somehow tricking her and bending her to his will despite ample evidence to the contrary.

He cursed the day she met Bill Compton, sent her down this path of hatred and distrust. He knew his Sookie better than she knew herself, and understood most of her negative emotions were really self-directed, but she was the Queen of Denial, and it was easier to blame him, make him the fall guy because then she could reassure herself she was still a "good" girl, not one who enjoyed the darker aspects of life.

Pam, his cherished child, had once encouraged and enjoyed their union, but now was as resigned to it as he. It was only through her repeated urgings to leave before he committed the gravest of sins _(like draining his bonded to her last drop_ ) that he ended up in Seattle, drawn into a small book shop where his honeysuckle and blood wine girl resided.

Sookie recognized the smile on his face, the twist of lips quirked with lust as fangs glinted in the lamplight. A tremor of entwined love and desire slid through her until she felt maddened by the conflicting emotions. How could she love such a monster after everything he'd done to her? He wasn't any better than Bill fucking Compton and it was time he knew exactly how she felt.

"Stop screwing with my mind! You won't be fucking me out of my mood."

Eric's placid demeanor snapped as the thwarted anger and grief he'd bottled up for a year burst forth in a vitriolic uncontrollable flood of words.

"Why would I want to touch that goddamn holy pussy of yours, hmn? If I wanted my dick to be snapped off by something so frigid, I'd fuck a snowbank. Sure, it would take a while for my cock to realize it wasn't you, but that's just the risk I'll have to run."

He blurred around the desk and leaned into Sookie, forcing her to lean back with his larger body. "Do you think it's the blood bond magicking you into screaming out my name as I fuck you so six ways to Sunday? You think I'm tricking you into wanting my cock so badly you're willing to crawl on your hands and knees just to lick it?"

Her eyes widened and the pupils dilated as lust swamped her senses; Eric could smell her readiness, feel it in the way her pelvis canted against him, an unspoken signal she wanted him to take her. It was the first time in a long time she had given him any sign of her desire, and the part of him that loved her madly, deeply, and unconditionally urged him to kiss the hollow of her neck or lick and bite at her nipple in the way she liked.

She was so hot for him, he knew she probably wet her thighs in excitement; it was one of many things she considered shameful and blamed their blood bond for. Apparently wanting her beloved in the most carnal way wasn't "proper."

To her, sex was shameful and dirty, something good girls did because it was expected of them by the bible, but by God they better pretend like hell they didn't enjoy it. It was times like this, when he was tip-toes away from the edge of an emotional abyss, he wondered how she liked fucking Compton, or even worse, _her_ Eric who apparently clung to her and needed her like a fucking babe on the tit.

He hated the version of himself who convinced her to sleep with him, love him, and who ultimately abandoned her, because he, the one who returned, was blamed for the other's defection. She said she accepted the two Erics were of the same mind and body, but he knew she truly didn't believe.

Tricking her into marriage to protect her from Andre was both the most fool-hardy and most brilliant plan he ever had because it saved her, regardless of her accusations of doctoring the situation so it appeared more threatening than it truly was. It absolutely amazed him the depths of her self-delusions and ability to believe whatever crazed notion her disordered mind came up with.

Suddenly tired, just fucking so tired of this emotional bullshit, he shoved himself away from her, and stalked across his office to the door.

"Where...where are you going?" Her voice shook, with repressed pain and lust. Once, not so long ago, the combination would've felt like a stake to the heart, but now he was startled to find himself detached, uncaring of her emotional well-being. "Are you going back to _her?_ "

Eric turned then, allowing the excitement and anticipation he felt at seeing his newest acquisition to fill his face. Sookie had often bemoaned her inability to read his expressions, so he made fucking sure she could understand them now.

"Yes, and I"m going to bend her over the bed and fuck her so hard she'll taste my cock in her mouth. Then once I've fed her, and she me, we'll start all over again. I'll fuck her in so many positions and for so long, she'll be thankful I turned her because if she were a mere _human_ she would expire."

"You're an asshole Eric Northman and I fucking hate you!"

A grim smile slashed across his face as he finally, _finally_ relinquished the last part of him bearing Sookie's brand. "In the immortal words of Rhett Butler, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."

The door swung quietly shut behind him as he walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I continued this story since originally this was a one-shot, but for some reason I couldn't let it go, so this is the result. This is it. I swear. Maybe.


	3. Soul Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric learns the price of thoughtlessly siring a new vampire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is kind of fun even though I no longer watch "True Blood," and gave up on the Sookie stories three books ago.

Eric blurred down into the bowels of the house, his sensitive ears searching for the out for the slightest sound in the dark. Pam had felt it necessary to knock her blood-sister unconscious because , "the bloody little bitch tried to feed on me." He appreciated her restraint and promptly rewarded her with ready cash for her favorite boutique and nail shop, plus two weeks unrestricted use of his new Audi S5. It was the least he could do for her trials and tribulations of the past seven days.

It was Pam's panicked call, moments after his difficult conversation with his bonded, that changed the direction of his evening. Contrary to what he'd told Sookie, he hadn't planned on fucking his new girl, but go to a blood bar in the shadiest sector of Shreveport and get tanked on exotic play.

"Master, I don't wish to criticize and hesitate to relay this information, but..." She drew a deep breath, an unusually human action for her and most likely the influence of Sookie. "Your new child is maddened. She will not take any food, synthetic or otherwise, and I fear she will remain feral."

He'd groaned audibly, his forehead creasing as a rare moment of guilt and shame enveloped him. His turning of the delectable human had been hasty and unplanned. He'd been so intoxicated by the feeling of surrender, warmth, and acquiescence to his every desire, he'd neglected to take the normal precautions and went too far.

Since they were in the city far from grave earth, he'd hastily loaded her into a coffin and flew her home with him, then relegated her into Pam's care. He hadn't returned to her side because there'd been several minor crises demanding his attention, and then his audience with Sookie. It wasn't that his new child was far from his thoughts - for she was the burning in his loins and sweetness upon his fangs - it was the lack of control she represented that enabled excuses to flood his mind and lips.

A scratching noise in the corner opposite him dragged him from his morass of guilty thoughts and back to the present problem at hand. He must school his wayward progeny in the correct ways of her new nature, or she would have to be destroyed.

Eric opened his mouth to call her when he realized he had no fucking clue what her name was. They'd exchanged little conversation and no information when they first met, and he hadn't seen her since that night. Refraining from slapping his own forehead in frustrated amusement, Eric held still so he could locate her in the black using all of his senses.

The honeysuckle and blood wine scent was deeper, spicier, a viscous liquid he could almost taste in his mouth. His fangs instantly burst from his gums and his body hardened impossibly, until he felt like he swung a marble cock between his thighs. He flew across the distance between them, arms catching up her smaller body as she swung with lightning fast reflexes, crushing her down into the soft bedding at their feet.

Normally newly made vampires lay within their Maker's embrace for three days beneath the blanket of earth, rising with thirst quenched by a hunt (or in some cases by the bottle of Trublood waiting at the side of the grave). He had condemned his beloved to a ravening state of blood-lust because he couldn't face the enormity of the mistake he'd made.

Her mindless cries and snapping of fangs raked across his heart with the same harshness of nails on chalkboard, and he clutched her tighter to his breast, feeling the shreds of cloth hanging off of her. She struggled beneath him, her body flexing and bunching beneath him until he thought he would go mad himself with another sort of lust she roused.

"Be still now," he hissed between completely elongated fangs. His command had little effect on her, and Eric knew there was only one thing he could do since she was too far gone to understand words.

Clutching her throat in one hand so she wouldn't try to escape, he quickly ripped off his own clothes and pressed his equally naked skin against her. Her whimpering and struggling slowly tapered off until a low crooning vibrated between them.

"Yes, feed. Trust your instincts."

He tipped his head to the side, baring his neck to her, and two dainty points pricked his suddenly overly sensitized skin, finding no resistance and sliding in with ease. The blood sluggishly responded to her suckling, and Eric felt pride and wonder at how powerful he felt feeding his beloved. _This_ was how it was supposed to be, the giving and receiving of his gifts, the visceral need of him in every way.

Gently he turned them over so he lay on his back and she stretched out along his cool length. Even though she wasn't tiny, she was so much smaller than he, and he marveled at the differences between them as male and female. She was pliant and boneless beneath his questing fingers, parting her legs and canting her hips to open herself as much as he needed.

Eric slightly mourned the absence of blood-heated warmth nestled between strong thighs, but he no longer regretted making her; instead he felt a bone-deep excitement at having another who belonged so completely and totally to him, her will was his, and he would forever own her in a way no human could ever comprehend.

Two fingers...three...her slippery wetness accepted his hand as easily as his flesh her fangs. She stirred with another hunger as he pumped her delicate flesh before gently, so as not to disturb her feeding, slipping his cock into her, and began rocking her back and forth, allowing her to adjust to being filled with him in all ways.

Time ceased to exist for him as he slowly fed her twinning lusts, the basis of her madness; normally when a vampire was turned, the bite proceeded the sex, and both were ready for the moment of death. In her case, he had allowed his anger and grief to overcome his usual reason and taken her beyond that point, forcing her body to respond to his again and again even as he brought her over. Then he compounded the mistake by not giving her the surcease her changing body needed.

Now, he unselfishly gave of himself, groaning when she ground against him in furious need. Grasping her hips in his hands, he thrust upward, over and over, until he felt her muscles tremoring and clenching around him in delicious waves. Her fangs ripped from his neck as she climaxed, the Maker-Child bond snapping into place with stunning clarity, pushing Eric into orgasm as well.

Her body warily tensed above his as she too sensed the bond, but also the other threads entwined in their connection. Curiously and somewhat cautiously, she tested the strand leading to Pam, and they both felt her delight, annoyance, and lusty pleasure. Gaining confidence, his honeysuckle girl reached out to the other shining strand, but Eric was too languid with pleasure to realize too late it lead back to Sookie.

The blood bond was similar to the Maker's bond because of the deep ties it forged between vampire and his companion. Sookie's _otherness_ had enriched it to an extraordinary depth, so as long as Eric wasn't consciously blocking it, her perceptions of his emotions were as clear as if she were in the same room as he regardless of where she was physically. Tearing pain slashed at both of them in an overwhelming torrent before Eric broke off the connection.

He was shocked by Sookie's emotional reaction to his child, until he realized this was the first time he hadn't shielded her from his extracurricular activities. When she'd denied him her body, he'd gone elsewhere for the blood, if not for sex. This was the first time he had betrayed his bonded in that manner, and she'd experienced it in its entirety.

Eric waited to feel some sort of shame, repentance, or regret, but merely found himself reaching for his beloved, and pulling her into his embrace once more. They still had hours left before dawn, and then two more days to follow, before they could leave this faux-grave. He wanted his honeysuckle girl to emerge unscathed and strong, able to handle the rigors of her new world, seated at his side.


	4. Line in the Sand

“You’re looking well for the undead.”

 Eric merely gestured obscenely at Pam rather than speak as he trudged wearily across the threshold into Fangtasia. He couldn’t chide her too harshly for teasing him with the truth; he’d stumbled from the basement as weak and palsied as an old mortal after three days of sucking and fucking which almost completely wrung him dry, especially since he hadn’t allow Pam to return to the house with food for him. He knew to break the physical connection between him and his new child could set her back again as she wasn’t completely sane just yet.

 “I need girls delivered to my office, and now.”

 “But Eric...”

 He nailed her with a look and she trailed off, bowing her head slightly. Nothing mattered right now except feeding on blood which could sustain him; drinking another vampire was for functional and ritual reasons, not a recommended part of a daily diet.

 A few moments later, seated behind his desk (the real place of power instead of the gaudy throne in the main room) Eric quickly sorted through the last several days receipts, dividends, and deposits. He frowned heavily as he saw the gift shop’s revenues weren’t as stellar as they should be, and normally were. A quick rap on the door distracted him from his musings, but he put the matter on the back burner. Something was obviously going on he would need to keep a close eye on.

 “Come.”

 “I certainly hope you will, “ Pam purred, preceding two delectable redheads dressed in identical tight barely there outfits. Upon closer inspection, he could see they were identical in appearance as well.

 “Twins! Oh, you do spoil me.”

 “As soon as they entered, I knew they’d be the perfect snack, Master.”

 Pam split them up, seating one on the large leather couch taking up the opposite wall, while directing the other to round the desk to Eric. He lounged back against the chair with spread legs and allowed her to step between them. The girl was young, maybe twenty, and quite delicious with a long pale neck and sumptuous breasts showed off to their best advantage in a low cut top which barely contained her lush ripeness.  Eric flared his nostrils and could scent nothing more than a sweaty tang and deodorant mixture; he was pleased by her healthy glow and beckoned her closer.

 “Your name?” He normally cared less what his food was called, but he was still a little raw over his nameless child.

 “Sandy,” she breathed quietly, her lips delicately brushing his ear. “My sister is Mandy.”

 Eric mentally rolled his eyes at the cutesy rhyming. “Delectable, as are you, m’dear. Sit.”

She obediently bent her knees to him and perched herself gingerly on his lap. Eric gently drew her closer to him and buried his nose in the fold between neck and collar bone, breathing in the aroma of her skin. He was vaguely surprised to feel no sexual desire, but ignored it as trifling in place of feeding his more pressing need; fangs burst from his gums with deadly speed and he pierced her just as swiftly.

 Sandy moaned and curled her arms loosely around his shoulders, cradling his head and giving him a deeper angle. The rich blood was alive with her mortal memories, but he blocked his awareness of her life as he sought relief from his gnawing hunger with each deep pull of his needlepoint fangs. Within moments he stopped, though the gnawing hunger remained, because he had no wish to kill her.

 “Pam,” he snapped, never taking his eyes from the cerulean ones blinkering at him in stupefied wonder.  An instant later, Sandy was replaced with Mandy, who giggled and fluttered her eyelashes in silly flirtation. This time, instead of the neck, he was drawn to the snowy expanse of bosom temptingly heaving beneath his nose.

 She squealed when he drew the silky top down, along with her bra, and drew a pouting nipple into his mouth, allowing her a small pleasure before clamping down and sliding fang deep in search of her life-giving elixir.  This time, though, he didn’t lose himself in her taste because of a thready lust bouncing along his Maker-Child bond.

 Swiveling so Mandy’s back was to the room, he looked over at Pam and saw her kneeling before the other twin, blond head beneath the tiny excuse of a skirt. He grinned wickedly and felt a slight stirring beneath his belt as his libido took notice of his child’s wicked proclivities. She enjoyed playing with her food because a racing heart made the blood spurt out faster from the femoral artery. Well, that and she genuinely enjoyed the touch and taste of women.

 Soon - too soon - Eric lifted his head and retracted his fangs from the delectable mortal, easing her to her feet and guiding her to the couch. Pam smirked up at him with crimson stained lips.

 “Done?”

 “You can partake. I must go see to the vermin.”

 Her brow furrowed. “I can still feel your hunger Eric. And you didn’t...” she motioned towards the healthy bulge straining his black jeans.

 “This was for your performance more than them. And I don’t think this is my hunger we’re feeling. Fuck.”

 He thrust Mandy at Pam and stormed to the door barely aware he ripped it from the hinges in his haste. Eric had left specific instructions to his child to remain in the house with the until he returned, but he somehow doubted he would find she’d obeyed his command.

 Upon first glance the patrons of the bar were milling and drinking, their desperation for one night on the “dark side,” as palpable as the cologne they wore; Eric settled his approach at once as it wouldn’t do to appear out of sorts before either the humans or his coterie.  He sensed his child’s presence among the throng, but he must make the rounds before tracking her down.

 He could, of course, reach out to her mentally, as they’d discovered in their last day together that she could “hear” him, but not “talk”  back to him; for her the bond was a mesmerizing force of emotions with a small telepathic link. Eric wondered what this would mean for her developing powers in this second life. Every vampire had at least one, though it sometimes took years if not centuries for it to fully manifest itself; he was nearly four hundred before he discovered his gift of flight.

 Eric lounged in the spot-lit gaudy throne, fingers flying across the keypad of his phone when Pam appeared at his side.

 “Girls taken care of?”

 “Mesmerized and sent to the store room.”

 “Good.”

 “Are you going to do nothing about her- “ she motioned towards the dance floor where her blood-sister twisted sinuously around an awestruck human male. “She is disrespecting you before the others.”

 The “others” Pam spoke of were collected at the fringes of the crowd like vultures circling a kill. Some were part of Eric’s retinue while most were from different Areas, potential witnesses who had no stake in the outcome of battle between Maker and child, but were sure to report to their own Sheriffs or Royals about Area Five’s troubles. It was a quandary Pam summed up quite succinctly. It was one of the many fine qualities he enjoyed about her.

 “They don’t know she’s a wayward child.”

 Her snort was quite eloquent. “She reeks of your scent and is obviously newly turned, but instead of taking food from you hand, she hunts for herself. What else are they to think?” Especially after everything Sookie has done publicly to embarrass you, was thankfully left unsaid, though they both heard the damning words hanging in the air.

Eric was in a tenuous position as he no longer enjoyed the long leash held by Sophie-Anne, but bowed his neck to the much harsher and stricter Felipe de Castro. He was still a very powerful Sheriff and this often caused envy among those who were also unwilling subjects of the new King. Sookie’s presence at his side had much to do with the continuing position he held, as de Castro was keen to have the services of a telepath and was enough of a statesman to lure with honey instead of vinegar.

Yet, she was also the source of many problems he had with other vampires because she refused to settle into her role as his bride and companion, preferring to sparring and mouthing off in front of others instead of behind closed doors as he urged, commanded, and blackmailed her into doing time and time again.

The only reason he wasn’t a complete laughingstock was his fighting abilities and survivability skills; he was one of the oldest vampire in North America, and everyone knew he didn’t rule because he chose not too. His newest child would understand she was his and lived upon his sufferance.

“The phrase “I brought you into this world and I can take you out,” seems oddly apt at this moment,” Eric mused quietly, his eyes never leaving the small screen of his phone.

The tinkling laugh was bell-like in clarity and beauty, causing several heads to turn in their direction. Pam was not easily amused and to hear her laugh was quite extraordinary. Speculation ran rampant among the vampires as they wondered at the conversation between Maker and Eldest Child.

As the evening wore on, anticipation roused Eric’s hunting instincts and for the first time in a long while he felt closer to his true nature instead of bound to civility and fucking servility as he was most days. His honeysuckle girl was an unexpected gift regardless of her origins and possible end. He had no desire to destroy his perfect creation, but to protect everything he had gained and fought for, he would do what needs must be done. 

At the appropriate hour, Pam‘s “Vermin get the fuck out,” sent the mortals to the door while the vampires in the room remained, their eyes and fangs completely focused on her. She’d spent most of the night weaving a seductive spell over the human men she danced with, though surprisingly she never left the building with her more than willing victims. Her eyes had routinely sought his out, her lips drawn back over elongated fangs, the dainty points a taunt of the last three days and how they felt sunk into his body.

Eric stepped from the dais and stalked towards his new child, each step echoing dully in the silence. His fangs snapped down like a round racked in the chamber and he relished towering over her.

“You called?”

“I am...hungry...Master”

Without further word or warning, he grabbed her hair and forced her to her knees before him with pointed reminder of how she’d spent some of their previous moments together. Her nimble fingers unzipped and slipped into his jeans without further instruction and she drew out his cock with a sigh of wonder before delicately suckling him into her mouth, careful of her fangs.

Unmindful of her care, he pushed over her soft tongue into the dark haven of her throat, the strands of her dark hair wrapped around his hand like a rope. It wasn’t often he had a lover who could take his entire length, but one benefit of a vampiric lover was the lack of need for air.  He ignored the avaricious eyes trained on them, and cupped her cheek as he thrust in and out of her wonderful mouth. Her brown eyes were wide with adoration and he blinked at it in wonder and disbelief.

The lush pad of her tongue combined with the burning pain of her fangs scoring his skin, drove his need higher and higher as his thrusts grew faster and faster, wilder and wilder until his balls felt like plum sized weights aching to burst. Drink every fucking drop, he mentally commanded even as his cock seemed to split its skin with the force of his ejaculation he poured down her welcoming throat.

He withdrew reluctantly and tucked himself beneath unforgiving denim with slightly shaky hands. She remained kneeling with her face tilted to him, her breasts heaving with the force of her own desire. Eric could feel her lust inundating the bond even as he scented it in the air around her; she’d spent most of their three days together twined around him, embedding her delicious aroma into his skin until he felt like it was a permanent part of him . Now, he was angered that others saw her like this, so he roughly grabbed her arm and brought her to her feet.

If anyone would see her vulnerable and adoring, it would only be him. And maybe Pam.

“This is Holle, my Child.” He brought her round to face the impromptu vampire court formed a few feet from them. Tradition demanded he introduce her to his King first, but he didn’t know the next time he would see Felipe as the Royal resided in his home state of Nevada, so he ignored the niceties with breath-taking arrogance.

Shock lanced through the crowd as they absorbed the breach of conduct; at most they expected  him to continue her punishment, maybe even allow some to partake of her luscious body. But to formally introduce her?  By name?

Eric was irritated, aroused, and a tad melancholy, so in true Viking fashion, he decided to drown his sorrows in food and flesh. “You’ve had your goddamn show, get the fuck out.”

No one dared tread on his temper and the vampires fled as quickly as the mortals had earlier. He knew the news of tonight’s fiasco would probably be crawling all over the networks by evening’s rise tomorrow, but found he had no regrets.  

Eric changed his grip on Holle, shifting his hand from her arm to her nape. She was quiet beneath his touch, her silence an assent to whatever he planned. He had many plans involving blood, his desk, and testing her obedience.

“Master, what were you thinking? You’ve just shit on all the bowing and scraping and fucking ass-licking we’ve done in the past few months to the toad de Castro!” Pam stood before him, her hands on her hips as she scolded him like a harridan fishwife. “What was the point of trying to rebuild if you’re going to tear it all down again?”

He stared at her, trying to put how he felt into words she would understand. It was strange to him how just a few moments ago he’d been willing to sacrifice his second-born to protect everything he owned, but now it seemed pointless. He was not meant to cower beneath the boot heel of another, especially a little shit like de Castro who wasn’t nearly as strong as he was himself; the pleasure seemed to burn the doubts from his mind and clarify their situation.

“If Felipe comes after me, so he does. I feel like the Sword of Damascus hangs above our heads and I’d rather have it fall now when I can prepare for it rather than what I least expect it. I’ve been tracking the oddities happening here in the past few months and I’m pretty sure someone is stealing from us to make it look like I’m hiding profits from the tithing process.”

Pam started, worry shifting from his surprising conduct to Fangtasia’s business. “Another Long Shadow?”

He shrugged. “I don’t think so. It has to be one of Felipe’s little stool pigeons or someone turned against us for the right price. I’m pretty sure none of the humans are involved with it this time, but I”ll have Sookie suss out the girls in the next couple of days.”

“You think she’ll come back, especially after how you’ve disregarded her? She’s a fucking human with mortal desires. Even I can feel her anger and hatred, muted as it is.”

“Ah, but I have the contract she had Mr. Cataliades draw up which is iron-clad. She cannot withhold her services from me if the need is sufficient, and I have to pay her half up front the agreed upon amount and pay the other half within seventy-two hours.”

“Holy -- why didn’t you tell me about it? When did this happen?”

A grimace crossed his face as he remembered the night she’d thrown it down before him, flush with triumph at having put one over on him. No one, but no one, could wiggle out of a Cataliades contract. It was the reason Royals used his services almost exclusively; for Sookie to have gotten him to give her one, meant he’d taken a liking to her. Then,Eric had been pissed, but now it filled him with smug resolve.

“After her experiences in New Orleans.”

Holle wiggled then, her movements breaking Eric from his tainted memories. “Still.”

Her immediate adherence to his command contented him and his smile to Pam was full of fang. “Put in a call to Sookie in the evening tomorrow. I will have her here in two days hence or know the reason why.”

“Of course.” Pam nodded with a slight bowed head, her eyes flashing with rapid emotion. Eric didn’t bother to read her because he trusted her as he trusted no other and knew she would do as he bid.

“Also, send the twins to the basement. We’re staying here tonight.”

“Holle and you?”

“Yes. Go home and return tomorrow to take care of the Sookie situation.”

A pregnant pause then, “Her name is Holle?"

  
“It is now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my FF.net account: I wrote this on the spur of the moment for a friend of mine when she needed some cheering up. She absolutely adores Eric and so I gave her a little slice of him. It has no connection to any of my stories and the unnamed girl is not Sookie. Any mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Update: I'm trying to get back into the True Blood Fandom frame of mind, so I'm hoping I'll jump start my muse by going back to some of my old writing. This was never finished so maybe my TB writer's block will resolve itself. Hopefully? I laugh at how short the chapters are and overwrought my language is, but in my defense, it was one of the first fanfictions I wrote. I'm posting it with little editing (except for a few comma splices and misspelled words).


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